


Pit Stop

by Blood_On_Glass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Burping, Caring!Cas, Cas is trying, Emetophilia, Just a little non-graphic Diarrhea, Sick!Dean, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blood_On_Glass/pseuds/Blood_On_Glass
Summary: Dean has a stomach bug. Castiel isn't really sure what that means, let alone how he can help.





	Pit Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another story for you guys! As always, my Tumblr is hold-my-hair-back which is a place where you can find lots more of this stuff. I have probably a dozen works there, all emeto. That's also where you can see my fandom list and send requests in. <3 <3

hold-my-hair-back  
anonymous asked:  
I love your writing I'm so glad I found ur blog!! Any chance you can write a fic with Dean with a really burpy stomach bug and Castiel looking after him? xx

I know I haven’t posted a story in forever but life got chaotic. Anyway, here’s a request fill while I work on an OC story. OCs usually take longer for me to write for some reason so I’m gonna quickly put this fanfic out haha. Much love to the Anon who sent it.

Takes place around season 5 . So… Spoilers up to that point.

———————————–

 

After being back from forty years of relentless, excruciating torture in Hell which impacted Dean drastically on a physical and mental level, being benched during a hunt by his little brother was almost humiliating. Especially considering the fact that it due to a stomach bug of all things and the hunt was nothing more than just a spirit – something that should be a walk in the park for someone who went through literal Hell, but, no. Sam had to go and give Dean his sad puppy-dog eyes and give the whole ‘You were dead for four months, I can’t lose you again’ speech, treating Dean’s stomach flu like it was stomach cancer instead. Despite how stupid Dean thought it was, he agreed, knowing Sam and Bobby were more than capable of ganking a spirit on their own.

He wouldn’t just sit around Bobby’s house, though. That was where he crossed the line. Dean had agreed to sit back and relax for a couple of days while this thing worked its way through his system, but there was no way that was happening. After just two hours of flipping through his ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ magazine, he was restless. Neither of them got sick very often, so their first aid kit was fresh out of Tums and Emetrol. Not to mention, for once in his life he needed something that wasn’t alcoholic to put in his stomach. The fridge was stocked with beer, but his stomach turned just at the sight of it. So, Dean grabbed Baby’s keys and headed out the door to the nearest gas station.

It was a little before noon when Dean arrived at the small store. The symptoms of the stomach flu had begun last night and hadn’t let up since. He had woken up nauseous without any warning, his mouth already filled with bile. He had sprinted to Bobby’s kitchen sink as the only functioning toilet was all the way upstairs. Getting sick that moment hadn’t been the only time throughout the night, either. Dean knew this stomach bug was kicking his ass and sitting out of the hunt was for the best. It still didn’t help with the humiliation. Especially as he sat in the parking lot of the gas station, head resting on the Impala’s steering wheel as he debated whether or not he would be able to make it in and out without having to puke in a public bathroom.

A familiar whoosh sound made Dean jump and without lifting his head off the wheel or opening his eyes, he sighed heavily. “Dammit, Cas,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “What have I said about just popping up without warning?”

“My apologies,” Castiel replied, but to Dean, it sounded frustratingly insincere. Then again, this was Cas, and his sincere voice probably sounded the exact same. Dean lifted his head and looked over at the angel and sighed again. Castiel’s blue eyes were full of sincerity and Dean knew getting angry over something that the angel couldn’t really help would be futile.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly, wincing as his stomach churned and gurgled again. Dean let out a soft grunt as he wrapped one arm around his bloated middle, the other supporting his head. “What do you need, Cas?”’

Castiel did that thing he always did when he couldn’t quite understand something. His head cocked to the side and his blue eyes narrowed with confusion. “Is something the matter?” he asked Dean.

Not being able to help himself, Dean scoffed. “Nah. Just my stomach being ripped apart while still inside me.” A flash of alarm went through Castiel’s features, and Dean quickly corrected himself, remembering his angel friend took everything literally. “Not really. It’s just the stomach flu, I’ll live. I just came here to get some ginger ale or somethin’. My stomach is a friggin’ mess right now.”

“Ale?” Castiel asked with a frown, watching Dean closely. “You think….alcohol will alleviate the distress in your stomach?”

“Ginger ale ain’t alcoholic,” Dean responded with a sigh. “It’s–” Dean cut himself off mid-sentence as he released some of the air that bubbled up his throat. Dean grimaced as the burp left an unpleasantly acidic taste in his mouth and he made a mental note to brush his teeth once he was back at Bobby’s.

“What was that?” Castiel asked curiously, and much to Dean’s frustration, the angel cocked his head to the side again.

“I ain’t gonna explain burping to you, Cas,” Dean said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Is it normal?”

Dean felt his irritation grow. The arm around his stomach tightened and he held his breath, both to fight the nausea and to stop himself from snapping at Castiel. “Yes, especially when your stomach is trying out for the friggin’ gymnastic Olympic team.” Dean burped again and squeezed his eyes shut as he exhaled slowly. “I also don’t have anything left in me, so my stomach’s trying to – urp – bring up something it doesn’t have.” Castiel didn’t say anything and Dean found the silence helpful as he tried to settle his stomach by gently rubbing it. However, when a loud, painful gurgle sounded from his belly, Dean knew what was about to happen. As horrifying as this was, Dean knew it would only be a matter of time before stuff began to come out of the other end. “I need a bathroom,” he panted to Castiel before hurrying out of the car and into the gas station.

The bathroom was about as disgusting as possible, but thankfully it was a single so no one else would come in as he relieved his bowels. He sat down on the toilet and let nature take its course, trembling with each wave. Dean groaned and wrapped both arms around his stomach as it continuously churned painfully. An acidic belch brought up a mouthful of bile onto the floor and Dean spat onto the ground. “Please, God,” he moaned to himself as he looked at the mess he made on the floor. Despite emptying itself from both ends, Dean felt his entire middle sift under his palm. “Please. This is awful…”

The same familiar sound as before came and Dean felt his irritation peak. If there was ever a wrong time for Castiel to suddenly appear by his side without permission, this was it. Dean looked up at Castiel and shook his head in disbelief. “You’re gonna just fly in on me in the bathroom now?” he demanded. “Get the hell outta here, man. I’m… busy.” 

Castiel looked confused for the millionth time since he popped into Dean’s car less than a half hour ago. “You prayed,” he pointed out. “I came.”

“I didn’t-” Dean cut himself off as he realized he had technically asked for God. Damn it. “Well, whatever, Cas. I’m gonna tell you right now that if I ever decide to pray to the man upstairs and not directly to you, it’s not gonna be over diarrhea. Now get out!” Dean was starting to feel violated and embarrassed as Castiel just stared at him while he was sitting on the toilet. Luckily, Castiel was gone instantly, leaving Dean alone to clean up his mess.

When he got back out to the car ten minutes later, Castiel was sitting in the passenger seat. Dean climbed into the driver’s side and looked over at him with narrowed, green eyes, reading to tell him to leave when he saw Castiel was holding a bag in his lap. “What’s that for?” he asked, his curiosity trumping over his anger.

Castiel reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of ginger ale and some Emetrol. “I asked the kind lady for some help for a friend who was suffering terribly in the bathroom.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude-”

“I hope it helps,” Castiel continued. “You know, I have met many souls in Heaven and illness is a massive killer.” Castiel looked out the window and Dean could have sworn he saw the angel bite his lip, not even long enough to last a second. Suddenly, he understood.

“Hey,” Dean said gently, nudging his friend’s shoulder. “I ain’t gonna die because of an upset stomach, okay? Look at me, Cas.” When blue eyes met his, Dean continued. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I know you aren’t exactly sure how to deal with all of this crap. I just want you to know that you’re doing a good job and I appreciate it.” Dean reached over and grabbed the bottle of ginger ale as Castiel nodded. Dean knew this was partially on him because he didn’t often enough express gratitude toward Castiel. That would have to be something he worked on one day after he kicked this bug and was back on his feet.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said sincerely, looking over at him with a small smile. “I appreciate hearing that.”

Dean shrugged and took a few drinks of the ginger ale, belching loudly as he set the bottle back down. “I’m gonna drive back to Bobby’s, You wanna keep me company?” When Castiel nodded, Dean felt a small smile appear on his face. “Thanks, buddy.”

The drive home felt too long in Dean’s opinion. Especially since his stomach was twisting the entire time and he kept having to swallow thickly after each burp to prevent something else from coming back up. Thankfully, nothing had, but the moment Dean stopped the car in front of Bobby’s house, he knew he didn’t have any longer. He rushed out of the driver’s side and slapped a hand over his mouth as he sprinted inside. Once again, he didn’t have time to make it upstairs so he made a run for the kitchen sink where he began to burp miserably.

“Are you going to be alright?” Castiel asked from behind him and Dean nodded as he burped up a mouthful of the ginger ale he had consumed. “My stomach’s killing me,” he moaned, placing his hand on his bloated middle. “But I think I’m done puking for now.”

“Good,” Castiel said. “Perhaps you should lay down. I can’t heal you from this ailment, but I can still make you sleep.”

Dean spat into the sink one last time before wiping his mouth with a paper towel. He hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not he wanted Castiel to basically knock him out. However, when his stomach moaned again and another queasy burp escaped from his mouth, Dean nodded. “Yeah, alright, Cas.”

Castiel nodded and helped Dean over to the couch in the living room. Dean gently eased himself down across the cushions, moaning as the movement made his stomach churn. However, the bad feeling was temporarily pushed away by the good feeling that came with Castiel gently laying a blanket over his trembling body. “Thanks,” Dean said softly, closing his eyes.

“You’re welcome,” Castiel answered. “Now, just relax, Dean. You’re going to feel extremely tired in just a moment.”

“I’m already tired,” Dean pointed out, but when he felt Castiel’s hand on his forehead, he went silent. Castiel’s touch spread a soothing warmth throughout his entire body and Dean felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. Sleep came easily, and for the first time since Hell, it was dreamless too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, loves. <3


End file.
